Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Unwound,
Bad Manners,
Black Pus,
Monks,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Slave,
Amon Düül,
The Stooges,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fortunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
Reuben Wilson,
Fugazi,
Man Parrish,
Guru Guru,
The Moleskins,
Oblivians,
The Gladiators,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Green,
Skarface,
Pantaleimon,
Chrome,
Roxette,
Morten Harket,
Al Stewart,
Joey Negro,
Jacob Miller,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Silicon Teens,
Janne Schatter,
Rakim,
The Cramps,
48th St. Collective,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rekid,
The Misunderstood,
Flipper,
Judy Mowatt,
Loose Ends,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.